Unfinished Business
by jrogers
Summary: Where did Chance go when he started up those stairs-missing scene from Run.


Unfinished business

Missing Scene from Run-Starts after Chance talks to Allison on the phone.

As he pocketed his phone from talking to Allison and headed up the stairs he let the confident facade fade. His limp became more pronounced and his face lost the easy smile. He headed to the car Winston had left when he brought Guerrero's modified tracker and helped with the ambulance distraction. He knew the adrenalin had kept the pain at bay from the blows his leg took and once he stopped moving it was going to be hard to get moving again. Sliding behind the wheel and starting the car he took a deep breath, letting his mind go blank he concentrated simply on the drive back to the office.

Winston sat at his desk, swirling the drink he had poured, postponing the distracting numbing gratification he would receive when he drank it. The delay perhaps a form of self- punishment, he mused. His thoughts kept swirling around the past and present history he had with his friend, now dead. When they had worked together, disagreed about his leaving the force. Anger and jealousy, trust and disappointment. The guilt with involving him today and his subsequent death warred with the knowledge that Al had made his own decisions. He still felt wounded at the remark Al had thrown in his face "you of all people", proving that even as adults wounds from the past on both sides had not yet healed.

He heard the garage door open and close below him and assumed Chance was returning with the car. Once he had dropped off Guerrero's gadget and after wiping and helping to rig the ambulance, he had stayed to start the vehicle traveling on its crash course. This left Chance and Allison to take the car to a position close to the courthouse, ready for the rolling distraction he sent their way. After doing the deed he had walked a quick block away and caught a taxi back to their offices. They did not want to take a chance on any more exposure for them at the courthouse with the events going down today.

As he swirled his drink again he punched up the monitor to check the garage as a different distraction. Sure enough there was the car sitting in its slot. He couldn't tell from the angle of the camera if someone was in it or not. He glanced at the stairs again, wondering if Chance had slipped past him while he wasn't looking. Downing the drink in one gulp he glanced at the monitor one more time feeling a need to check out the situation. He caught a flash of movement through the windshield of the car and it piqued his curiosity enough to get him moving.

As the garage door closed behind him, Chance turned off the car and let his head fall back against the headrest. He could easily lose himself during a case in the needs of the moment. But once it was all over he always had to come back to reality. Allison was on target more than she knew when she accused him of running. He always felt in control physically when he was pushing his body till it hit its limit but the mental battle of keeping his emotions at bay was overwhelming and exhausting. Now with today's events he had another lost life to add to his conscious. Even though he knew in his head he could not be responsible for the whole world, his heart and spirit felt heavier every time someone he was involved with to help met an early ending. He knew Winston would be taking it even harder since he was the one who asked for his friend's involvement. Knowing the involvement was to help him made Chance's gut twist even more.

He laid his hand over on the passenger seat and touched the telescoping baton, anger surging at not only what Gibson had done to Winston's friend and Allison but the fact that he was still walking around free. He knew Winston didn't mean anything by it when he mentioned his friend had went to the hospital to meet Chance and Chance knew he hadn't asked him to, but it just reinforced the feeling that it was his fault he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry, he hoped Winston had heard the sincerity in his voice when he said it, it seemed so lacking and trite but he had meant it to convey all that it could and more.

Flicking his wrist to release the steel he slammed it down hard on the seat, and imaged it was Gibson's flesh it was meeting. That satisfaction was short lived as all it really brought back to him was the difficulty he was going to have getting upstairs. His leg's inactivity on the drive back had caused it to stiffen painfully, the mere touch of his trouser fabric was excruciating. Opening the driver side door seemed like a daunting task, and one he wasn't sure he was up for. He could call Winston for help, he had his phone but again the surge of guilt with what the last call for help had cost Winston made him hesitate and sigh. Maybe he could just sleep in the car, things would surely look and feel better after some rest.

Innate caution made Winston slow his pace as he headed down the stairs to the garage. Feeling a little foolish for missing his holster and gun he glanced around the space with paranoia at the stillness. It was a unique building set up that allowed them the seclusion they needed. With a private two car garage underneath their office space it allowed loading and unloading of the car away from prying eyes. And in their business they needed that. The lights that came on when the garage door opened and closed had already expired on time and now the area was dark. All kinds of thoughts ran through his mind as he got closer to the bottom of the stairs. He hit the light switch at he stepped into the garage area and could just make out a form sitting in the car, the lights however reflected off the car windows making any other information unobtainable from this distance.

The form in the car didn't seem to notice the change in lighting or his approach. He could now see that the form in the car was Chance and he quickened his pace, concerned at the lack of response. He had thought no news was good news from the scene, but now wondered if Chance was injured. Moving slowly so as not to startle Chance into a defensive reaction, Winston lifted the latch on the door handle and eased the door open. "Hey" he greeted.

Chance opened his eyes and tilted his head toward Winston, a totally false smile gracing his face. The smile faded away to be replaced by a sad look. "I am sorry" came out softly exhaustion lacing his voice.

Winston still concerned about the current situation did not want to dwell on that subject right now, "Come on let's get you upstairs." He reached across Chance and popped the seat belt release then moved back to allow Chance to get out. When he still didn't move, he prodded, "Hey is something wrong?"

Chance took both hands and reached over to grab the material of his pants above his left knee; forcefully he lifted his leg and heaved it out of the car. His other leg followed and he doubled over contorted in pain, almost tumbling out of the car. Winston grabbed and braced his shoulders to keep him seated as Chance gasped for air. Winston tried to figure out the problem. There was no blood visible, possibly something sprained or broken? He ran his hand up the leg starting at the ankle, he didn't feel anything broken but when he started up the outside of the thigh it felt like running his hand over a set of rolling hills. Chance almost connected with Winston' chest as he struck out with his right foot to stop what was causing the pain. As Winston stood up and ran an eye over the rest of Chance they came to rest on the baton on the passenger seat, giving him the clue he needed regarding the injury. Whatever he needed to do to treat it they needed to relocate from the garage to upstairs.

Analyzing his options for getting Chance upstairs didn't provide any quick answers. The stairs were not really wide enough to allow him to help Chance up the stairs easily, and he knew Chance would baulk at his next thought but it seemed the easiest. Chance might be slight but he still packed some weight since he kept in shape, but Winston was no slouch either. Grabbing Chance's shirt he hefted him up out of the seat then bent with one quick motion and threw him up over his shoulder. Chance struggled slightly, causing himself more pain, "Hey, just stop" Winston growled with some authority and he caught the defeated sigh as the struggles ceased. "I can go on my own" drifted from over his shoulder without conviction. "Sure you can" Winston appeased as he shut the door to the car and headed up the stairs.

As he hit the first landing he thought about depositing his load on the couch on the first floor. If he did that and someone came Chance would be stuck there in view, better to just head up to the second floor and leave him on the couch in his area. Activity in the office could continue without disturbing him. He continued up the second set of stairs.

As gently as he could he sat him down in a seated position on the couch, giving both time to catch their breath. He moved around to the closet and rummaged through the spare clothes they kept in the office for such emergencies. Choosing a t-shirt and shorts, he came back around the couch and threw them beside Chance. Helping him salvage some of his dignity he said, "If you think you can manage change your clothes while I rustle up some ice." Chance gave him a frown but started in on the assignment.

"If you don't mind…" this caused Winston to grin as he was shooed from the area in a request for privacy.

Heading downstairs to the kitchen area he opened the freezer and removed all the ice packs. He confirmed the ice cube trays were filled up for round two when the bags would need to be replaced. In the cabinet he found the ace bandages and then turned his decision to pain killer. His hand rested on the over the counter bottle of pain killer as his eyes rolled over his other choices. There were some bottles of stronger pain killer, some prescriptions from previous injuries and other unknown bottles Guerrero had produced. He chose to stick with the over the counter for now, Chance was probably exhausted enough it wouldn't take much to get him to rest right now. Better to save that for later if needed. He grabbed a bottle of water and his load was complete.

As he headed up the stairs he could hear some grunting, he popped his head up early for a sneak peak along the stairs to see if he was coming back too early. But the sight showed he was about right, Chance was shouldering into his t-shirt and sitting back on the couch, examining his now visible injury.

As Winston swung around to face Chance on the couch his face pinched into a grimace as he got a full look at Chance's leg. Swollen and beginning to bruise it told the tale of why it was refusing to cooperate. He changed his face to a questioning look and Chance rolled his eyes. "Gibson got a few hits in" he admitted as his shoulders shrugged his words off. Winston closed in and pushed Chance's shoulder down so he was laying on his right side. Gently he lifted the left leg up and propped the foot on the arm rest. This would give him the clearance he needed to wrap the leg.

Winston began placing the ice packs strategically along the leg to cover the most area, then using the bandages to wrap and hold them in place. Chance closed his eyes while it happened, blocking out the idea he needed help and to manage the pain. As Winston fastened the first bandage and started wrapping the second, Chance muttered "Gibson got away", barely audible. Winston hesitated for just a moment on the wrapping as he processed not only the words but the tone in which they were delivered. He tried not to let himself react to the disappointing news, knowing Chance was already beating himself up from the events of the day. But the disappointment was hard to swallow, causing his anger at Gibson to rise, not only for Al but for the injury he was faced with now.

"We'll get him" he tried to pump some confidence into his voice but he didn't raise his eyes to make contact. He knew if he did the truth of his disappointment would show. Chance didn't even open his eyes; he could feel the emotions in the room indicating how Winston felt. He let the weight of it drowned out everything else and drive him into an uneasy sleep.

As Winston finished he finally glanced up to see his patient breathing more deeply, apparently asleep. He didn't even get the chance to give him the pain killer. He considered waking him but instead left the drink and a couple of pills there on the table in easy reach. He stood up and retrieved a cover, the ice would do what it could for the muscles but Chance might as well be comfortable. He laid it over him and stood back, running a tired hand over his face. The news about Gibson was disappointing, not only from both of their standpoints but Allison's as well. As long as he was alive and free there would be no security for her. He picked up Chance's discarded clothes, amazed that for a change they would be usable again. More times than not, his clothes after a day like today were fit only for the trash. He straightened and hung them over the back of a nearby chair.

He knew this case was not over until this loose end was tied up. He headed toward his office, giving Chance one more glance as he left. A dirty cop on the run would be hard to track, between the help he would receive from those who befriended him and those who feared him and his knowledge of how to avoid those looking for him; he would have a definite advantage. He sat at his desk and contemplated the best way to pursue his whereabouts. He knew once Chance woke up and got some food down him, he would be unrelenting. Sometimes Chance's motivations were not the purest but Winston knew he would not let the job go until it was finished.

Looking up the stairs he considered the sources he could tap for this task, and as much as he preferred not, Guerrero was a good option. He wondered if he could talk him into picking up Carmine on his way over. He figured they would be here most of the night and the dog had been cooped up all day. He picked up the phone to make the call.

An hour later Guerrero and Carmine both made an entrance all their own; Carmine made a few turns around the main floor investigating anything he thought was new since his last visit before starting upstairs. Guerrero on the other hand came directly into the office, found his spot and started setting up his computer to work, not even a "Dude" in greeting.

Chance awoke to a darkened room, with a very wet tongue working over his face. He reached up to give some affection, appreciating the unconditional return. The movement brought back the fact as to why his neck and back were stiff from laying in one position for too long. His leg felt better and after a final pat to Carmine he leaned up and started unwinding the ace bandages to remove the melted ice bags. When he finished he opened the water bottle and downed the aspirin. He was sure by the time he was done with his trip downstairs he would be glad he had taken them. Standing cautiously and gathering his ice bags he slowly started the journey downstairs. Carmine seemed to sense his mood and climbed up onto the couch to keep his spot warm.

As he descended the stairs he was surprised to see Guerrero and Winston both working intently, he wondered what all had transpired while he slept. As he made the turn to go into the kitchen Guerrero glanced up, "Hey, Dude" died on his lips as his eyes took in the leg and instead ended in a low whistle. Chance ignored him and continued into the kitchen area, opening the freezer to deposit his spent ice bags. He started rummaging around in the frig, looking for something to eat, he was famished. It looked like Winston was taking care of him because he found a foot long sandwich. Pulling it out and grabbing a drink he headed back to the main room, slowly lowering himself into a chair at the table Guerrero was working at.

"Bet that smarts" Guerrero commented making Winston snort as he came in from his office. "Need anything?" Winston asked, Chance nodded yes as he pointed at his sandwich, his mouth full. As he found some room for words he said "and some information-you two working on finding Gibson." This was more of a comment than a question. Winston and Guerrero glanced at each other before confirming, "We have some pretty good intel, dude"

After a brief discussion on what they had found and how, Chance finished up his sandwich. "Good, as soon as I change I want to get on his trail." With that he began cleaning up his mess and started slowly back upstairs. Winston opened his mouth, words of caution on the tip of his tongue. But Guerrero just shook his head and Winston bowed his head in silent prayer that this would end well.

The more he moved the better his leg was feeling. As he picked something out of the closet a little stealthier to change into he tried to calm his emotions. He did not want to go into the situation off balance with revenge. He knew his leg was going to be a weak point for him that Gibson could take advantage of and he wanted to end this, and end it according to his plan, not Gibson's. He took the ace bandages and wrapped his bad leg tightly, it wasn't much but it would help. Focus was not going to be a problem tonight.

As he headed down the stairs he found Guerrero packing up and Winston in his office getting the information together for Chance. "Would you mind dropping Carmine off at my place on your way home?" he asked as he slipped into a leather jacket. Winston nodded, holding his tongue on any caution or advice he wanted to give. He handed over the paper with the words, "keep in touch". Chance nodded and headed down to the garage.

Winston watched the monitor as he knew Chance was going to take the motorcycle, the jacket his giveaway. He watched in curiosity as Chance stopped by the car to grab something, it was the baton. Eyebrows arching Winston almost pitied Gibson, almost.


End file.
